


stress

by txmaki



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor TW, hey i recently joined this fandom and connor is my boy so here, i don't know if it counts as a panic attack but., rough times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 13:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txmaki/pseuds/txmaki
Summary: "right now i need you here,need you to stay strongto remind me where i came fromand where i belong;so wake up and stay with me."-- are you with me, nilu





	stress

You let out a shaky sigh as you look around the empty, half-lit station. All the desks around you are empty. The only sources of light are the break room and the yellow-glowing lamp on your desk, providing you with little comfort. You just need to go home, to cry in your bed and let it all out, but you can’t because you still haven’t solved the case -

Your eyes burn, your vision blurs. No one’s here, not anymore, so it’s okay to cry, right? Just for a little bit? You kept making so many promises - _I’ll find a lead, I promise_ and _I promise I’m trying my best_ and _Just give me a little more time that’s all I need I promise_ and it _hurt_. Your arms cave beneath you and you rest your head on your desk, finally letting go.

The taste of your tears is bitter, reminding you that you’re weak and can’t handle a simple goddamn case. It was just so frustrating, so infuriating - a lead is right on the tip of your tongue and you taste it but then it’s gone, leading to nothing but a dead end. A sob wracks your body and you lift your head, shaking it as you let out a bitter scoff. Your fingers wipe desperately at your cheeks but the tears don’t stop, not easily. You sniff, licking your lips.

You pull your sleeves over you hands, hoping to feel comfort in the feel of the cotton against your skin. No such comfort finds you. All you want to do is bang your head against the wall so you can feel something else rather than the frustration clawing at your heart. This can’t be healthy, you think. Your heart rate is probably through the roof.

A small chuckle leaves your lips at your half-assed humor and you let out another shaky sigh. Your last-ditch attempt to cheer yourself up has failed.

“Y/N?”

You jump in your seat, turning your head to where the ever-so-familiar voice came from, feeling your heart pick up its pace. Connor stands to your right, head tilted and brows furrowed. You know, by this point, that he’s probably analyzing you; after knowing him for so long you’ve managed to pick up on a few of his habits.

“Hey, Connor,” you murmur, wiping under your eyes quickly as you turn your head away from him. You know there’s not much of a point, but you feel better about it anyways. The ends of your sleeves are damp.

“You’ve been crying.”

You shouldn’t be surprised at his bluntness, but it still manages to. You nod, looking back at him, and the expression on his face is conflicted; almost hurt. “Yeah,” is what you end up saying in response. “I have.”

Connor looks like he doesn’t know what to do; not necessarily awkward, like he’s weighing his options. Make a run for it? Say sorry? Tell you to get your shit together? _Honestly_.

You hear his footsteps before you see him closer to you, and although it’s not much, when he places his hand over yours it makes your eyes well up with tears again. Ever since he became a deviant - you hated that word, it made him sound like some type of criminal - Connor had been much more compassionate and open in general. It didn’t surprise you much - you always had the feel that Connor was a little more human than he thought, but it confused you to see such a different part of him after knowing him as _Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife_. Never bad, just different.

You smile up at him from your seat, wiping the stray tears from your face. More fall in their place. Connor offers you his own almost-lopsided smile, and you take a moment before speaking.

“Connor, can you… will you do me a favor?” You ask, feeling his hand squeeze yours lightly.

“What is it?”

Your mind flashes red with the realization that your request is honestly strange, but it goes away quickly. You need it, you owe yourself.

“Will you, uh… will you hold me?” You murmur. Connor furrows his brows. “Just for a bit, okay? I just… I need someone to hold me.”

Your voice breaks and the breath you let out is nothing less than painful, and you want to tell Connor that he doesn’t have to, that he can just leave, but then he’s pulling you up, up, up from your chair and into his arms and by the time your face is buried into his shoulder you’re sobbing again. It feels nice, to know he cares enough about you to do something like this (however small it is) and you grip onto him like he’s oxygen and you’re drifting hopelessly in space.

“I’ve got you,” Connor says, his hand stroking your hair. His voice brings you back down to Earth, steadies you. “Breathe, okay? _I’ve got you_.”

A headache is creeping up on you as your cries slow, but you can’t will yourself to do anything about it. You don’t want to let go of Connor, you don’t want him to go. For a moment, everything is okay with him holding you close to his chest like this.

“Don’t leave,” you whisper against the crook of his neck. “Don’t… don’t promise you won’t leave, just don’t do it. Please.”

You feel Connor nod and pull away from him for a moment. He looks at you, offering that almost-lopsided smile again, smoothing some mussed hair out of your face. “Okay,” is what he tells you, eyes warm and trusting. “I won’t.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him wordlessly. You linger for a moment before going back to your place, your arms around Connor’s neck and face pressed into his shoulder. You don’t know when the two of you started swaying like this, all nice and slow and purely reassuring somehow, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless.

Your heart hums in your chest.


End file.
